July 1, 2005
I am a runner. This was a perfectly normal thing to be when I lived in Washington, D.C. I’d make my way down East Capitol Street from Lincoln Park, and join the running hordes on the Mall, passing the softball games, soccer games, ultimate frisbee games and gangs of happy tourist families enjoying the Smithsonian museums. I was watcher and watched, part of the scenery, one of hundreds of runners going by, nothing special. When I moved to West Kerry, things changed a bit.